Two Moon Junction Review

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From the writer of Nine 1/2 Weeks comes a film of a privileged southern belle, April (Fenn), spoiling and soiling her forthcoming wedding by going on a no-holds-barred sex marathon with fairground attraction, Perry (Tyson).


Sherilyn is the rich but unfulfilled daughter of an aristocratic Southern family who are building up to her big wedding while she smoulders with what is supposed to be sensuality and an inability to get any satisfaction (if you know what I mean and I think you do) from her straight-arrow, rich-kid fiance. Richard is a carnival attendant with a girlie haircut and very few shirts who turns up in Sherilyn’s shower one day to persuade her to have steaming, smouldering, blazing, thirst-quenching sex with him all over the house while he videotapes it. She falls for his macho-but-sensitive approach, Villechaize and Screaming’Jay Hawkins in one film and still give top billing and 90 per cent of screen time to total zeroid deadlosses like Sherilyn Fenn and Richard Tyson? Ask Zalman King, a former actor and screenwriter, because he wrote and directed this empty slice of poseur’s porno.

Two Moon Junction would be quite entertaining in its non-stop silliness and pretension, except that it’s such a slow, draggy, stately, downright tedious little movie. Sherilyn and Richard certainly have incredible chests, and take a lot of time to expose them for the camera in peculiarly unarousing porkarama sessions, but their nipples are more expressive than their faces. They are one-star acting talents with five-star bodies stuck in a two-star movie (it is partially redeemed by the ill-used supporting cast and the music). Take a cold shower instead

All pout and pose, with no spine to speak of; a beast with no back.